Florida Beach Halfathon - Fort DeSoto

When I awoke to the harsh buzzing of my alarm clock, it was still dark outside. I rolled over to check the time, and noticing that it was only 4:45 am, I hit snooze. In what seemed like an instant, the alarm started again. This time, I had no choice. I had to get up. I had only 20 minutes to get ready. I groaned, "ugh! Why did I do this to myself?!?" Just three weeks ago, I finished my first marathon. Now, here I was, at 4:55 am, only two hours from the start of yet another half marathon.

I quickly jumped out of bed, already dressed in my running clothes (minus the shoes, of course). You see, I knew if I didn't sleep in my running clothes, I might never get ready in time. I grabbed my shoes, a banana, and some water, and I headed out the door.

...

I arrived at the starting line around 6:15 am. It was freezing out on the island, mainly due to the heavy winds. I could've sworn the weather report said it would be in the upper 60s, low 70s. This was not the upper 60s. Luckily, I remembered to bring a long sleeve shirt. That'll have to do for now.

For the next 45 minutes, I could feel the anticipation building. I anxiously jumped up and down, both in an attempt to stay warm and to release some nervous energy. I kept asking myself over and over again, "Why am I doing this?!?!" But I knew in my heart, I would make it. After all, I just finished a marathon. So what's 13.1?!?

I thought about running to the bathroom before the start of the race, but then I saw the line. I'd never make it in time. Only 5 minutes to start....

...

The first mile flew by, my adrenaline carrying me along. When I reached mile marker one, the clock read 8:45. I reigned in my adrenaline and slowed my pace. I'd never make it all 13 miles at that pace. But, I continued to feel fast and strong. The course left the road and took a turn onto a path heading along the water. I zoned out for a few minutes to enjoy the view. Then it hit me. My first stomach cramp of the morning. I tried ignoring it, but it persisted. "No big deal," I thought to myself, "I'll just stop at the next bathroom. I know there's one just a quarter mile from here."

But a quarter mile later, my cramps were gone. Again, I was feeling strong. I couldn't force myself to stop.

As I approached mile marker 3, I could feel my body burning up. My pace was slowing. I would never make it the rest of the way like this. I had to get rid of this long sleeve shirt, but I can't just throw it on the ground. It's new, and it was expensive. I know I should've brought a "throw away," but it's Florida. I didn't anticipate it being cold this morning. I continued running, but I knew I wouldn't be able to make it much further with this shirt on, and I was making such good time, I didn't want to stop. Then, I spotted my husband in the crowd. I frantically waved him over, and signaled for him to meet me about a half mile up the course to change my shirt. When I came up upon him, I quickly unpinned my number, took off the long-sleeve shirt, and repinned my number. Now, I was ready to go.

It's amazing what a difference the temperature makes when you're running. Once I got rid of my long sleeve shirt, my body temperature dropped significantly, and I was able to knock out the next two miles without incident.

...

When I reached mile 5, I was still feeling good. I hadn't seen the lead runners pass me on their way back to the finish yet. That's a good sign. (Although, I was passed by a woman pushing a three-seater stroller and I was passed by a 9 year old. But that's another story).

And then, it started. I could feel my feet start to tingle and they began to go numb. I continued for about another mile until I had no feeling left. But there was no way, I could run like this. I hurried off to the side of the course, took off my shoes, and waited for the swelling in my feet to go down and the feeling to return. After about two minutes, I was ready to go again. I put my shoes back on and took off, but my pace had slowed significantly. During that brief stop, my muscles began to tighten, and I could feel them aching with every step.

...
There's the lead runner! He flew by me around mile 6 1/2, and I watched in awe. He was so fast. Yet, his movements appeared so effortless. I didn't see the second place runner for another 7 minutes. For a moment I was inspired, and my pace picked up slightly.

....

I could finally see the turn around point at mile 8. The path had led to the end of the island, and there was a strong crosswind blowing across the road. I put my head down and pushed with all my strength. Every step was a chore. And it hurt. But I knew that once I turned around, the wind would be at my back.

Then, it started raining. "At least, it's cooling me down," I tried to think positively.

I stopped to walk briefly at the water station. I couldn't finish the water so I dumped it on my head. I needed to cool down. The rain wasn't enough.

As I reached the turn around point and headed the other way, the wind seemed to pick up. Only it wasn't pushing me from behind like I expected. Instead, I was pushing my way through a strong headwind, which persisted for next mile.

When I finally broke free from the headwind at mile 9, I hit a runner's high. I picked up my pace. I lengthened my stride. And, one by one, I began picking off the runner's I had been pacing since mile 3. I felt incredible. I felt invincible.

...

"oh no. not again! please, not now. uuuugh," I'm pretty sure I groaned out loud. The stomach cramps were back. And now, I had to pee from all the water along the course. Mile 11. I was so close. Thank God, there were several bathrooms up ahead. But again, I just couldn't bring myself to stop. I was afraid that if I stopped, I wouldn't get started again.

The pain was unbearable. I began to walk. I hated myself for walking. But, I just couldn't continue. I walked for about 50 yards, then one of the runner's who I had just passed came up along side me. He encouraged me. And he forced me to run side by side with him. I tried to drop back. But he pushed me. He talked to me to keep my mind off the pain for a few minutes. I really needed this!!

We continued to run together for the next mile. I still had to pee, but I decided to hold it. The bouncing motion of the running wasn't helping. It was painful. I still wasn't sure I'd make it. But my new friend would not let me quit. And we even picked up a couple other runners along the way.

Mile 12! Only one mile to go! I knew I'd make it. I could barely lift my legs. Each step hurt worse than the one before. I was dripping in sweat. Yet, I was cold now. I was freezing. But I could see the finish line. I could see the crowd cheering me on. I could see my husband cheering me on. I could hear the live band. I picked up my pace. I pushed myself. I felt as if I might vomit. But I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop.

As I turned the last corner, I could see the clock. I was 12 minutes under my PR, with just less than .1 miles to go. I pushed myself. I had to finish in under 2:10. I took a deep breath, and I ran with everything I had in me. I blocked all the noise, all the distractions, all the pain. I pushed myself with each step I took....

And I made it! Eleven minutes faster than my PR, and still standing. But I head to get the timing chip off my shoe. And I still REALLY had to go to the bathroom. I paced while the volunteer cut the timer off my shoe. Then, I sprinted to the bathroom. No time to talk. Not yet anyway!!

...

The Florida Beach Halfathon at Fort DeSoto was amazing. It was the first distance race I've run solo, and I made it. Of course, afterwards, I had some food and some beer. Then I went home for a shower and a nap.

I know now that even after running a marathon, I will never look at half marathon and say, "It's only 13.1"